The Film Buff's Bucket List. Chris StuckmannЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Jeremy Jahns, YouTube Movie Reviews

      Foreword

      Scott Mantz

      Film Critic for Access Hollywood

      “Get Stuckmannized!”

      Over the course of my 15-year career as the resident film critic and film correspondent for Access Hollywood, I’ve had many high points: interviewing Tom Cruise in Vienna in support of Mission: Impossible– Rogue Nation; sharing my Star Trek bar mitzvah photo album with Chris Pine and Zachary Quinto during the London junket for Star Trek Into Darkness; interviewing Ringo Starr on his 75th birthday while wearing one of my (many!) Beatles tee shirts; being recognized by Drew Barrymore, who saw my film reviews on the little TVs in the back of NYC taxis; and the chance to discover so many independent gems while covering the Sundance, Toronto and Telluride film festivals.

      But, without question, the highest point of them all was when my good friend and very respected film critic Chris Stuckmann asked me to write the foreword for his new book about the 50 best movies of the last 15 years.

      But I’m getting ahead of myself here. I can’t talk about Chris without telling my own backstory of how I became a film critic.

      When I grew up in Philadelphia, movies were my passion. I was introduced to celluloid heroes at a very young age, thanks to my forward-thinking parents, who took me to see very grown-up movies like Jaws, Taxi Driver, Rocky, Foul Play, Star Wars, The Spy Who Loved Me and Close Encounters of the Third Kind.

      What the hell were they thinking? Taxi Driver? I was 7-years-old, for cryin’ out loud!

      But that’s where my passion for film was born. I was never much of a sports fan. I was bored to tears watching sports, and I sucked in my brief attempts to play them. It was a hard time for me, because my dad, my brother and all my friends were downright sports fanatics. I became something of a loner, so while they were watching the big games or playing two-touch football or wiffle ball in the cul-de-sac, I would ride my bike to the local theaters, where I continued my cinematic education. It was a glorious time, thanks to then-new releases like Alien, Apocalypse Now, Raging Bull, The Empire Strikes Back, The Shining, Raiders of the Lost Ark, Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan and the movie that would become my all-time favorite: Blade Runner.

      As I grew older, my love for film knew no bounds. I saw and read everything I could about the greatest filmmakers of all time. But making a living in the movie business was something that never occurred to me. Movies were a hobby– a big hobby, but nothing more. So when it came time to choose a major while studying as an undergrad at Penn State University, I did what any clueless teenager with an accountant for a father might have done. I majored in accounting. And I hated every friggin’ minute of it.

      Okay, long story short: It turned out to be a blessing in disguise, because I got a job as a financial controller at an entertainment marketing company and I moved to Los Angeles in December of 1991. After a few years there, I started writing film reviews in 1998 for a bunch of entertainment news websites that don’t even exist anymore: Big Time Hollywood, Entertainment Insiders, The Mediadrome, and a few others that I really can’t remember the names of.

      But I found my calling, and those reviews helped me get a very good gig at Access Hollywood, where I learned the ropes as a producer while honing my skills as a film critic. It was during this time that I realized how much film critics were becoming an endangered species. While the Internet gave a voice to a lot of aspiring critics, it also put paid critics on the line, since so many up-and-comers were doing it for free. Unless critics were already established, like Roger Ebert and Peter Travers, the prospect of making a good living as a critic was becoming a thing of the past – that is, unless someone found a way to take advantage of the new online frontier while staying true to what the great critics were all about.

      That’s where Chris Stuckmann came in. When I first discovered his YouTube channel, which currently has more than 500,000 subscribers (and counting), I was immediately captivated by how articulate, passionate, fun, smart and entertaining his reviews were. Whether he loved a film, just sort-of liked it or downright hated it, he still spoke about it with an incredible amount of respect for the craft. His “man cave,” where he shoots his reviews, is packed to the rim with movie posters, memorabilia, action figures, DVDs and Blu-rays – so, yes, it looked just like my “man cave.” He was also a dashing young fellow who could give Tom Cruise a run for his money in the good-looks department.

      No one else was doing what he was doing, and if they tried, they certainly weren’t doing it the way he did it. I became an instant fan.

      In short, I was Stuckmannized!

      And as you will see in the pages that follow, he’s also a damn good writer. He knows his stuff, and he writes about movies in a way that’s easily accessible and extremely intelligent for both film buff and casual movie lovers. If there was ever a book about movies that qualifies as a page-turner, then the one you’re holding in your hot little hands is it.

      And being asked by my own favorite film critic to write the foreword for his very first book (hopefully of many) was not just an honor, but also a high point of my own career. Now, as you can imagine, critics don’t always see eye-to eye, and sometimes it’s more fun when they don’t. But I sure do agree with most of the 50 reviews you’ll read here, and they’re all so passionately well-written that I could feel myself getting Stuckmannized on a whole new level.

      - Scott Mantz

      Introduction

      Chris Stuckmann

      Author

      The screen.

      Why do we go to the movies? Why do we sit in dark rooms, digging our fingers into popcorn buckets, hoping for transport to another world?

      I recall watching a particularly good film earlier this year in a packed theater. I glanced about briefly and saw a couple hundred heads, all transfixed by the screen. For most, it’s like peering into a parallel universe, a place where their problems don’t exist. But for a very select few, it’s not just about escapism, it’s about searching. These people seek something more meaningful, they want to be inspired, changed, altered. They’re looking for that moment when a film touches them so deeply, it’s